The other brother
by Simfriek
Summary: My dear brother is a bit too nice but I will make sure that he will discover the truth. We will stand above the masses. Together as brothers. -I am writing this for my English class and I will ad a few things to the story in the upcoming weeks. Feedback is highly appreciated.


_Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on the book 'The curious incident of the dog in the night-time' by Mark Haddon. I, unfortunately, do not make any profit or own any of the characters that have been mentioned in the book like Christopher Boone or Wellington._

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**The other brother**

There he is. I studied him, as he walked by, with a presence only known by the wind itself. The only person that could know my inner thoughts and actually understand them. The one that would except me with all my faults. It's too bad that he doesn't know of my existence so I'll have to be patient. I'll have to wait and observe until the time comes to reveal myself. And I'm sure he will accept me when I show myself. He is my brother after all.

The old wooden floorboards where groining under my feed as I walked through the hallway of the abandoned house. The three story Victorian home howled as the wind swept through the broken windows and the wooden boards croaked as the wind swept past them. I suppose that it would bother most people but I'm used to it. Not that I'm "most people". O no, I'm anything but a lousy pet of the government. Those little pets all think that they rule this country but the same people have ruled it for thirty years. The masses won't believe what they can't see and that is what the government wants. The masses turn on their TV and look at the actors they can vote for. The actors all do their best to convince the masses that their plans will be the best for the country but that's all they are. Actors that are acting. The public thinks that they have a say in what will happen but they only control the looks of the country.

It seems that my brother is still in the groaning phase. Well, I can't blame him. I would be groaning a lot more if I had to live with those people. He lacks a drive. A purpose that he can use to filter the masses. I found mine when I found the truth. Now he needs to find his. I should probably let him find it on his own but that would take too long. And since when did giving someone a little push in the right direction ever hurt me.

I got to know the truth in the year 1993, on my eleventh birthday. The bastard that "raised" me thought it was a good time for me to see who really ruled this country and that's why he'd knocked me unconscious. When I woke up I was bound to a chair in several ropes that would take several minutes to cut with a sharp knife. The place I woke up in looked like an old storage area that has been abandoned for quite a while. I noticed from my seat that a few rays sunshine shined through gaps in the wall and I could the vague outline of a forest through the broken window across of me. I could barely see the sun above the tree line and as it was ten past two when he knocked me out. I would say I was out for five or six hours. There were six men sitting at a table in the middle of the room. It looked like they were playing a game of poker. There where twenty bodyguards forming a circle around the men sitting at the table. The bastard was standing at the right side of a blond men that was sitting at the table and was whispering a few things in his ear. I think he told him I was awake because the blond men looked right at me after he said that. The blond men had a "smile" that could send shivers down everyone's spine but that didn't bother me, because the only thing I could think about was: _'Why is there a snake sleeping on the blond men's shoulders?'_.

The idiot we both call father and that damned Shears woman are to blame for my brothers condition. Or at the very least the lack of progress in his condition. They thought my brother about 'emotions' and 'caring about others'. Silly people, 'emotions' an 'caring' only brings you pain and betrayal. My brother is weak and will be killed if I don't train him soon. They have been looking for someone that's good with numbers. So I don't think I have to wait for much longer.

My brother and me are smart people. I wouldn't say that we're geniuses but it's probably a close call. That's why it was easy for me to find a way to avoid the bastards wrath. I just had to act "normal" and blend in. That little trick came in handy when I was on the run. I could walk right past the ones that were looking for me and they wouldn't have a clue. Hiding in plain sight can be such a fun thing to do.

I remember it as if it happened yesterday. My first kill. I suppose people think I like killing people but that's not the case. I am proud that I could do my job but I don't get any pleasure from killing someone. I'm a bit indifferent about it. The only 'fun' thing about is, is making a plan and executing it perfectly. Seeing the reactions of my victims is just a nice bonus.

I don't understand human emotions. I mean I can recognise it when someone is happy, mad or sad but I don't understand it. Nobody at the orphanage taught me anything about emotions and the bastard didn't exactly give me a perfect example to follow. My 'loving' mother and father were too weak to raise two 'abnormal' children and that's why they brought me to the orphanage. I was treated like a freak because of my behaviour and on my fifth birthday I had enough of it. So I made a plan. I closed all the doors and windows and snuck to the basement. In the basement was this old rusty boiler and with a few little adaptions my plan was completed. Every single person in the orphanage died that night from carbon monoxide poisoning. The most interesting thing that happened that night was seeing the boy that woke up. He stared right at me from the third window from the right on the second floor. The light in his eyes slowly faded as the second ticked by and his body slowly descended to the ground as he tried to scream for help. That boys reaction was so normal and it's still one of my favourite things to see in my victims. The raw panic and fear that they gave of. It's just so fascinating to look at.

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_Thank you for reading my fanfiction. I am writing this for my English class. I'm still working on it but this is the beginning of the little story. It will probably be a one-shot but I'll write more if I get any inspiration for it. I will update the story in the upcoming weeks. Any feedback is highly appreciated. _


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